Lost Tales
by Ere8us
Summary: The three years spent at Luna Nova by Chariot Du Nord and Croix Meridies hold many secrets. Here we explore a few. Slow burn Chariot/Croix. Current chapter: "A Warm Welcome" - Croix and Chariot's very first day at Luna Nova has some surprises in store for them. Not at all good ones...
1. Chapter 1

Lost Tales

I

Audience of one

Chariot du Nord, newcomer at Luna Nova, and future Most Famous Witch in the World, took in a deep breath as she saw a group of three students coming in past the corner. These three looked friendly. Maybe they would listen to her.

"Hi!" she waved at them, her best smile – she practised – curling her lips upwards. The three witches, two blondes and a brunette – second year? – waved back.

A reaction! This was her chance! She walked right towards them, and handed the brunette a flier, still trying to smile as best as she could.

"Hi! My name is Chariot Du N-"

"I… uh, I know who you are," the brunette said. She didn't take the flier, withdrawing her arms like Chariot could pinch her, or something.

"It's that first-year weirdo," one of the blondes whispered to the other.

Any other witch would have found herself stricken at the palpable rejection, but she was no ordinary witch. She was Chariot!

Also, she was used to it.

"You know who I am! Wonderful! And you know tonight I'll give one of my super-amazing magical shows? There will be _fireworks_ and songs and-"

"S-sorry," the brunette said, pushing past her, quickly followed by her two friends. Chariot turned to speak, but the brunette held up a hand. "We have to study, sorry," she explained. One could even think she was running away, as quickly as her legs brought her away from Chariot.

"At least take a… flier…" Chariot tried to say, but the trio was already farther down the hallway, out of reach of her arm.

"That was creepy," Chariot heard one of the blondes say to the brunette one. She at least had an apologetic look upon her face. Most didn't, and passed right by, without even answering her.

Chariot sighed.

So! That could mean this had been a half-success? Quarter of success? A slice?

Still the best that had happened to her the last hour.

Maybe the problem was in the fliers?

Chariot took one in her hand. Red paper was good, it made it stand out, and it made sure people would not just lose it in the middle of notes or books. It had been expensive to buy, but worth it. And they were hand-written. People liked hand-written things, didn't they? It meant time had been spent on them, that they had, well, value…

A solitary witch, readying from a book, walked past her. Chariot, busy looking at the fliers, didn't catch her.

"Hey…" she began, waving one of her fliers, but the witch didn't look up from her book, didn't even acknowledge her.

Chariot slumped against the wall. She took out a small notebook from her left pocket.

 _Magical Festa,_ it read, in Chariot's own fluid handwriting. Under the large letters of the title, another small line read _seats taken_ , and then it was all empty white paper.

Chariot put the notebook back in her pocket.

Oh, well, she still had time! The show was tonight, and maybe someone would come anyway! There was one person in particular who…

Footsteps echoed around the walls, and Chariot, a smile once again upon her face, turned towards the source of the noise.

"Hi! My name is Char-"

 _Oh no_.

A tall, black-haired witch had just appeared at the bottom of the hallway. She wasn't looking her way, her eyes drawn to something she held in her hands, so maybe she didn't notice her, and maybe, just maybe, Chariot had time to run. She stood up on swift legs an-

"Is this yours, dear?" The voice was sweet, sickly so, like a candy bar left too long in a dark, deep place.

Chariot turned her head to politely smile, but her legs didn't stop.

"Oh, hi, uh, Morgaine. Nice day, isn't it, I was just…"

The taller girl sprinted, and in three quick strides walked up to Chariot, who pushed herself against the wall. Morgaine languidly put her right arm up to stop Chariot from leaving.

Chariot smiled again, and looked left and right for someone else to walk by. Another student, a Professor… anyone.

The hallways was empty.

"I said: is this yours, _bon-bon_?" Morgaine opened her hand to reveal a crumpled mess of red paper. From a corner Chariot got a glimpse of the words _ical festa_.

"My name… is not 'bon-bon'." Morgaine's fake French accent sucked anyway.

"You are too sweet, _bon-bon_ ," Morgaine repeated, her arm inching ever closer to Chariot. Her clear azure eyes shone like corpse-lights. "May I see one of your fliers?"

Chariot had long since learned behind Morgaine' sweet smile only pain hid, but there was a little sparkle of hope deep into her. Even if it was Morgaine, one person at least asked for one of her fliers.

"Sure," Chariot said, a drop of good mood trickling back into her voice.

"Why, thank you…" Morgaine took one into her long, dainty fingers. The crumpled one fell to the floor, forgotten.

Morgaine held the new flier in her fingers, crumpled in her fist and threw it after the first one.

"Morgaine…"

" _Sorry_ , my hand slipped. I'll take another one."

Chariot withdrew her fliers, but Morgaine was taller, and her arms longer, so she managed to take one. She didn't let it fall this time, and instead started to read it.

Out loud.

" _Magical Festa_! Tonight only! Go witness the greatest magical show in the world! Fireworks and songs and dances!"

"Morgaine, please, we are in the hallway…" Chariot jumped to take it off her hand, but Morgaine held it out of her reach.

"You'll be awed and leave with a smile in your heart! Tonight only, _Magical Festa_! With the one and only…"

"Morgaine!"

"… _Shiny Chariot!_ " Morgaine threw the flier away and laughed, her shrill cackles chasing each other against the walls of Luna Nova's Academy. Chariot felt her cheeks prickle and warm up, like she just opened an oven door right in front of her face. "Shiny Chariot! Oh, _bon-bon_ , you are too precious sometimes."

"You… Morgaine, just… please, leave me alone, will you? What ever did I do to you?"

Morgaine's corpse-light eyes shone with renewed vigour at those words. She pushed Chariot against the wall. Her long nails prickled her skin beneath her uniform. Her line of teeth seemed to shine, sharp.

" _Bon-bon_ , you know you shouldn't question your elders." Morgaine's left index climbed to reach Chariot's right cheek. Her nail was cold and hard against her skin. "Why are you wasting your time doing such silly, childlike things, anyway? Aren't your grades a disgrace, _bon-bon_? You should study. Even more so now…" Morgaine inched closer, and Chariot turned her head to the side not to to smell into Morgaine's breath, sweet cold mint. "…that your four-eyed friend isn't here to help you."

Chariot balled her fists.

"Leave Croix out of this."

"I wonder how happy she is right now… two weeks without _Shiny Chariot_ to drag her down!"

"Shut up…"

"Why are the two of you always hanging out together by the way? Is that French accent of yours, _bon-bon_? Or is it… something else…?" Morgaine's tongue darted towards her upper lip.

Chariot drew her wand. It trembled, pointed against Morgaine's left shoulder. Maybe it was the red rage battling in her chest for dominance against yellow fear and black hate, maybe it was due to her blurred vision. Chariot blinked away, and her vision cleared.

"Oooh… now you've done it, _bon-bon…_ " Morgaine's smile turned thin and even sharper than usual. "Pointing your wand at another student… and a senior at that!" Morgaine drew her own wand in a flash. "I'm being attacked. It's legitimate defence!"

Chariot realized too late she'd been goaded. She tried to put her wand back in, but Morgaine was quicker. She moved her wand around, and white ropes of magic coiled around her ankles and arms, lifting her from the ground. Her wrist twisted, Chariot's wand clattered on the floor.

" _Magical Festa!_ " Morgaine cried out, laughter rippling into her voice like noxious air bubbles from the bottom of a pond. "There will be _songs…_ and _dances_ …" the magical ropes swung in the air, and Chariot's limbs after them, without the need for Morgaine to say one single word.

"Let me go!" Chariot cried out, but there was no one in the hallway to help her… no student, no professor… no Croix…

Chariot, who still held onto her fliers, saw as they slipped one by one from her grasp, floating and dancing all around her, in a mocking choreography.

"… and _fireworks_!"

Chariot understood what Morgaine was about to do a second before her wand lit up in gold and red. Her _no_ scraped against her throat, but it didn't leave her mouth. And it was in dead silence that Chariot saw her hand-written fliers, in red expensive paper, lit up like moths, all together, and burn down in white flames.

"With the one and only…" Morgaine took a step back, letting Chariot fall to the floor, surrounded by a halo of cinders, "… _Shiny Chariot_ ," Morgaine concluded, bowing down in front of Chariot, taking her witch hat off with a flowing gesture.

(|°|)

It took her the larger part of the afternoon to take the stains off her uniform, and to let it wash and dry. She didn't have time to write any more fliers, but tomorrow morning there would have been hell to pay if she showed up with a dirty or wet uniform.

And without Croix…

Chariot bit her lips and balled her fists against the dark wood of her desk.

Without Croix, she couldn't… Morgaine was a third year, an honour student, popular and beloved by Professors, everything Chariot was not. There was no way Chariot could ever beat her using magic. Damn, even Croix, who was… who was simply the smartest person _ever_ only managed to beat her with a trick, all those weeks before.

Since then, Chariot had hoped the dark-haired bully would have left her alone. And instead, she had been goaded in the dumbest of ways.

Chariot looked at her empty bedroom. Her roommates had… to study tonight, so she had the entire room at her disposal. During the last few days, she had daydreamed about how she'd have to move things out to allow people to enter and watch her show. Maybe even take the beds out of the room… but it was all a fantasy, wasn't it?

In her night clothes, Chariot Du Nord was alone in her room. Few knew about her Magical Festa. Even less took one of the fliers. Could she ask them back? She would have like to put them away as a keepsake…

Still, there was nobody here, was it…?

An audience of none.

Chariot blinked away. There was this… prickling…

She balled her fists.

On her bed she found the sun hat she bought last summer in Marseille, before leaving for Luna Nova. It was a keepsake of happier times, when she had played around in the waves, her heart aflutter at the thought of becoming a witch, at last! And of her shows! Make people happy, make their lives a little brighter, give them good memories.

Chariot put the sun hat on her head.

Her bedroom door was closed. She was alone.

"W…" she drew in a breath, calmed down her chest. Chariot jumped on her chair, taking off her hat. "… welcome, everyone!" A teddy bear in the corner would do as the first attendee to her show. "This is _Magical Festa_! This is my show! You will be awed, you will be amazed! Open your heart to _magic_!" Chariot drew her wand and sprouted long lines of sparkles from its tip. She waved it left and right, drawing circles in the room. She put the sun hat back on her head. She looked at a bundle of clothes at the feet of her bed, and pointed at it. "You, sir! Are you ready?" Chariot jumped off the chair and did a somersault which ended with her atop of the upper bed, just shy of hitting the ceiling, but she pulled it off. "We have dancing here! And singing!" Chariot moved her wand around, as tinkling voices seemingly sprouted from the four corners of the room, a ghostly choir that caressed the air with harp strings, following Chariot's own movements.

Chariot pointed her left finger at an apple she brought in yesterday and forgot to eat.

"You, madame! Don't underestimate magic!"

Chariot conjured a set of dancing lights from her wand: they floated upwards towards the ceiling as the room's light dimmed: from up there, they hang in patterns, looking like a miniature firmament. Each star burned brighter in tune with the ghostly music.

"I am here for you, _Me_ _sd_ _a_ _mes et_ _M_ _essieurs_ , the one and only… _Shiny Chariot_!"

The stars shone bright and, one, by one, they burned and exploded in red, gold, blue, green, white and purple fireworks, each of them chasing shadows away.

"And I will always be here," Chariot said, more to herself than anyone else. Morgaine or not, _this_ was what she lived for. Her heart beat one thousand per minute, like she had run a mile or flew at full speed or met Croi-

A knock on the door.

Chariot jumped off her skin.

Around her, the fireworks snuffed out. The room came back to her usual light.

A Professor?

Finnelan?

M-Morgaine?

Chariot thought it was best to ignore it an-

Another knock.

"Hey. It's me," a muffled voice sounded from behind the door.

It couldn't… it couldn't be. Chariot just wasn't the kind of person with good luck. The stars never smiled to her.

Nevertheless, she walked towards the door and opened it.

Dishevelled, panting, setting her glasses right, Croix Meridies, wearing civilian clothes, waited in the island of light her room cast into the dark corridor.

"W… what are…" Chariot began to say, only for Croix to look past her into the room.

"Is it over? Did I miss it?"

"What are you talking about?"

Croix blinked, then produced a carefully-folded square of red paper from her jacket's pocket. Chariot managed to think how _good_ that jacket looked on Croix for a whole second before any other thought was washed away by the sight of one of her fliers.

How… how did Croix get one of those?

" _Magical Festa_ ," Croix explained, unfolding the flier and holding it against Chariot's chest. "I didn't miss it, did I?"

Chariot's chest felt warm. It felt like honey was dripping from its centre, warm and golden honey, covering her, and all the worries, the pain, the hate was swept away by the sight of Croix, panting and holding her flier.

"N-no. In fact, I was just starting."

"Wonderful," Croix exclaimed.

"Please, _madame_ , enter the magical land. After you."

Chariot bowed and stepped aside. Croix went past her and sat on the bed. They were alone in the room. As Chariot closed the door behind her, Croix exchanged a quick smile with her.

Chariot nodded. Oh, well. Next time it would go better. And there was no better audience than…

Chariot coughed into her fist. Was she getting light-headed? She better focus.

"So, uhm…" she asked Croix, "why are you here? You still have two days of advanced studies, right?"

"I finished early," Croix answered with a winning smile. Behind her glasses, her green eyes twinkled with excitement.

"Wow! You are…" why were her cheeks so warm, really? Chariot coughed once again. "Well you… I'm happy you made it."

"Me too," Croix said. "I see at least you decided on a stage name."

"Yes!"

Shiny Chariot jumped on the chair once again. She put her sun hat on, bowed and got ready to do it all once again. Better. Brighter.

 _Encore_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Lost Tales II – A Warm Welcome**

In time Croix Meridies would be known as Luna Nova's best and brightest student. On her first day, though, she took on a reputation as a rebel and a dangerous, temperamental person. All due to that red-haired girl.

It would have been simple to just ignore the whole situation, really. No point in dirtying her hands, even less on her first day here in Luna Nova. Croix wanted to study here ever since she had noticed the disappointing lack of magic in the outside world. This was her chance, this was her destiny.

She shouldn't get sidetracked by some bullying.

That was her problem, really. Getting distracted.

"Stop this," Croix said, hands clasped behind her back, her tone droneful.

It was six against one. Five shorter girls, all blonde, and the sixth one, tall and raven-haired. The red-haired girl, scared and trembling in the middle, looked at her with her deep vermilion eyes, hope shining amidst tears.

"Oooh." The tall girl turned towards Croix. Her long black hair and darker-than usual uniform contrasted with her azure eyes, ice-like in her sharp face. The girl possessed undeniable beauty, her face symmetric, her nose straight and her figure lithe and fit, but it was a stone-beauty, the sort Croix usually thought of when she looked at reptiles or weapons.

Even her voice, as sweet and deep as it was, sounded like a promise of pain.

She had got herself into a mess, didn't she?

"And who are you, dear? A newcomer?"

"My name is not important. It's unbecoming of witches to bully another student. Let the girl be."

"Let the girl be," the tall girl said, tapping her chin, like she was seriously considering it. "Well, that's something. Aren't you a little young to be giving orders?"

" _Run_ ," the red-haired girl whispered, shaking her head.

Croix, stupidly enough, didn't listen. It was the first time of many she didn't listen to Chariot Du Nord, and it wouldn't be the one with the gravest consequences.

The five blonde girls restrained the one in the centre, holding her arms and legs against the wall. Croix noticed she didn't even have a wand.

"Because here's a thought," the tall girl said, "when you order someone around, you have to make sure you _can_." She smiled, but it was too sharp and cold to be anything but a baring of teeth.

Croix opened her mouth.

"I'll…"

"Oh, wait, wait, I got this," the girl said. She clasped her hands together and pouted. " _I'm gonna tell the_ _P_ _rofessors_! Was that what you though?"

Croix, behind her impassable face, winced. That had been precisely her idea.

"Are you dumb, newcomer," the girl asked with the sweetest of smiles. She patted Croix's head, and her long-nailed hand felt like a claw. "You enrolled today and you think you can call for the professors to listen to you?" An odd light glinted in her azure eyes. "Ooooh, I get it, I get it. You don't even know _who I am_."

Croix didn't. Until that moment, she thought it not important. And the only important thing was to step from bullying the red-headed girl. It was supposed to be a quick job. Up until that moment, Croix had always managed to get what she wanted thanks to her intelligence, wit, and natural charisma.

And now, all of a sudden, she was out of her depth, floating in a cold harsh current, pushing her away from the shore.

Croix balled her fingers. This was _not_ important.

"Just stop bullying the girl. Leave her alone and we can forget this."

The tall girl bit her fingernail. It might have been a trick of the light, but Croix thought to have seen, for a moment, a flash of redness upon her cheeks.

"Oooh, you are _too_ precious." A quick gesture of her hand, and Croix was pushed against the wall, right besides the red-haired girl, held by two of the giggling blondes.

That was it.

Croix reached for her wand.

Her hand only grasped empty air.

Croix blinked. _How…_

"You shouldn't let things hanging around," the tall girl said. She put her hand inside her left sleeve, and produced Croix's wand.

"How…" Croix said, more out of habit than actual thinking.

The dark-haired girl chuckled.

"This year is going to be so much fun! First, _bon-bon_ chasing people in the hallways and asking if they want to _see her magical show_!" The girl cackled. Her laughter came from the throat. It reminded Croix of cawing ravens. "Then we have miss good Samaritan here. Hey. What's your name?"

Croix looked at the sides of the hallway. This was getting longer than she thought. Maybe if she bought time, got the girl to talk, somebody would come. She was starting to feel the crawling steps of fear inside her chest, and forced herself to bite it down.

"Croix Meridies."

"Meridies… Me-ri-di-es…" the tall girl tapped her chin once again. "Never heard of this surname. Must be trash. No magical history, I get? Where are you even from?"

Croix bit her lip. Trash. First day at Luna Nova, she who wanted to restore magic for all…

"I'm from Italy."

"No way!", the tall girl exclaimed. "Such a backwater country! Do you even have brooms there?"

"… we do."

Croix looked at hallway's end once again. They were six, and even if the red-haired girl looked like a fighter, covered as she was in scratches and bruises, they could easily overpower them. There must be a logical way out of this. She had to think. Think. Thin-

"Hey, _pasta._ " Croix felt something hard and sharp prick her jaw. The girl's wand was pointed against her skin. "Focus. You seem easily-distracted, _pasta_. A little dumb, too, like _bon-bon_ here. _Bon-bon,_ tell _pasta_ where are you from."

Croix could guess.

The red-haired girl, though, gritted her teeth.

"My name is not _bon-bon_. I'm Char-"

"Wrong." The dark-haired girl slashed with her wand, casting thin red lines against the girl's left cheek. "Wrong," she repeated, slashing on to the other side. She didn't cut, it wouldn't even leave marks, but it seemed painful.

Croix pushed the tall girl away. Maybe it was surprise, maybe it was the adrenaline rush in her muscles, maybe it was being shorter she enjoyed the advantage of a lower centre of mass. The tall girl stumbled back, and the red-haired girl, Char-something, was upon her in a moment, her hand inside the dark-haired girl' sleeves. She took her own wand and tossed Croix' hers.

The five blondes withdrew their wands as well, only to be stopped by the dark-haired bully.

"No. No." Croix and the red-haired girl fell back to back, holding strong against their six opponent. "It's not the right time," she explained. A smile came back in full force. "I see you two are not completely hopeless. I'm so glad! It would have been so boring if I broke two in a day." Croix pointed her wand directly at her.

"So I see. The moment you encounter a bit of resistance, the big bad bully is scared," she goaded.

The girl rolled her eyes up. She took one quick stride against the two of them. The red-haired girl waved her wand and a halo of blue magic came from its tip… before light and wand alike exploded in smoke. The red-haired girl hit the wall and lay there, shaking her head in the middle of the smoke, as if to clear it.

The tall girl snickered.

"Now that's a show I'd watch all day. As for you, _pasta…"_ Croix pointed her own wand at the girl, only to see it enveloped in light and floating away from her; ropes made of light coiled around her wrists and she was lifted from the floor, until she stood level with the tall girl's eyes. "You have _such_ pretty eyes, _pasta_. You came to Luna Nova to learn, didn't you? Here's your first lesson." She inched closer, so that the girl's breath, mint-scented, tickled Croix's nose. " _This is my school_."

The force holding Croix up was cut, and fell onto her rump against the floor. The red-haired girl, who had stopped chocking, wobbled at her side. She pointed her wand against the raven-haired girl.

"Now that's cute," she commented. A quick flip of her wrist, and she took the red-haired girl wand. Another movement of her wrist, and flames bursts exploded all around the room. For a few moments, cold light chased all shadows away. When the light subsided, the girl tossed the red-haired girl's wand back to her. "That's how you burn things, _bon-bon_."

She turned and made a gesture towards her clique, who tittering walked off.

"Oooh, almost forgot," the girl said, turning for a moment over her shoulder. "I learned your names, _pasta_ and _bon-bon_. You didn't learn mine. How unbecoming of me." The girl flicked her hair off. "Morgaine Malcaster. Your new boss."

The newly-appointed Morgaine walked off, her stride quick and light.

Croix and the red-haired girl were left alone.

Slowly, the girl looked at her, apprehension in her vermilion eyes.

"Are… are you alright?"

"Yes," Croix quipped. She stood up, rolling the girl away from her. Anger bit into her heart. How could… this was not… this was not how she thought…

"I'm sorry. I would have wanted to do more." The girl twirled the wand in her hands. "I'm not that good at magic." Now that was the understatement of the Century. The girl stood up, and offered her hand at Croix; for some reason, her spirits already seemed uplifted, while Croix's anger still resided deep in her belly, a burning coal. "I'm Chariot! Chariot Du Nord!"

"Croix Meridies," she repeated politely.

"You have such a cool name! Hey, thank you for standing by me there! Do you want to get ice cream? My treat! I'll…"

"We have to clean, first," Croix said, pointing at walls. If a professor walked in…

"Oh. Right."

They had to use their hands. Croix would have wanted to try with magic, but the experience with Morgaine not only shook her confidence, it showed this Chariot girl could do with a wand what open flames and gasoline did.

It took her the best of two hours. During that time, Croix's anger boiled down to black hate, as it deposited at the bottom of her heart, and there it began its long process of festering. All the while, the Chariot girl spoke with her, telling her all sort of things, like her favourite colour, and her time back in France, and about her family and how much she liked to jump and dance and flying was her favourite thing in the world, and a lot of other things which Croix frankly didn't pay attention to, only nodding when it seemed polite.

In the meantime, she planned her vengeance. This was _not_ over.

When they finished, the red-haired girl offered her a hand. It was still stained with soot.

"Sorry, sorry," she said, cleaning it quickly against her uniform. "So! Wanna be friends?"

Croix shook it without much commitment. The girl seemed nice, but she was a walking disaster.

"Sure," she repeated absent-mindedly. "I'll get back to study, Chariot," she excused herself. This accident already cost her too much time.

"I'll… uh, go too," the red-haired girl said, looking around. "Uhm, if you wanna study together one day, my room in on the second dormitory floor."

"I'll see what I can do," Croix answered, turning to wave at her.

There. Accident over. She could forget all about this stuff and plan…

"By the way, thank you again!" Chariot's overly-eager voice reached her.

"You're welcome. It was nothing, really. Goodbye."

Croix began walking away slightly quicker.

"You are a good person, Croix Meridies! I'm happy to be your friend!"

Friends. Hah.

The girl hadn't moved from the middle of the hallway, and sported an irritatingly-bright smile. As if nothing had happened. As if it could be understood, forgiven, forgotten.

"Thank you," Croix answered once again, feeling nothing like a good person. In fact, Morgaine Malcaster would soon find out how _bad_ she could be.

Croix turned and managed to almost reach the end of the corridor before Chariot's voice resounded once again.

"When I'll be the most famous witch in the world, I'll reserve your front tickets for all my shows!"

Croix didn't know how to answer that.

She turned the corner.

It was over.

As Croix found out soon, it _wasn't_ over.

It was late afternoon when she was distracted from her studies by a knocking at the door. Her roommate was busy enjoying the late-summer sun and she was alone. All the better, she'd focus.

"Yes," she came to answer. It was Hannah, her roommate. The fear in her eyes was only matched by the quiver in her voice when she told Croix:

"C-Croix… it was Professor Finneran. She demands you go to her office, like, right now."

Croix blinked. How… what…

"Thank you. I'll be back soon."

"Yeah…" though none of them believed it.

Croix walked the distance towards Finneran's office feeling like she was swimming against the current. Each step was hard and rigid, her arms against her sides. What could it be? On her first day. On her first day…

Croix entered Finneran's office. There, she found two people, other than the scowling Professor.

The first was Chariot Du Nord, looking pale. She timidly waved a hand at her.

The other, a sombre look on her face, standing with her hands clasped against her chest, the very picture of demureness, was Morgaine Malcaster.

The hate inside Croix's chest rose up into red anger again, but it was tinged with golden hope. So that was… that was… Chariot must have had reported back. Brave girl!

Croix's winning smile, as she shared it with Chariot, though, didn't last.

"Close the door, Meridies," Finneran's voice commanded.

 _Oh._

"You two…" Finneran pointed her finger at her and Chariot. "… this is your first day here, so I want to be lenient. But know that the second time you'll be caught setting fire to the hallways of my school, I'll make sure to expel you both without a second thought."

Croix blinked. This couldn't… this…

She pointed her finger at Morgaine.

"It wasn't us! It was her, her and her five friends, they cornered us and…"

Finneran clicked her tongue.

The rest of her words died in Croix's throat

"No matter how many times your refrained that pathetic cover-up story with your peer, Meridies, you will only aggravate your position. And trying to accuse miss Malcaster, here… it's just shameful."

Morgaine turned her head away, like she was embarrassed. Croix hang with her mouth open, still looking for words. This…

"It's two against one," Croix explained, applying to logic.

"Actually," Finneran countered, ice coating her voice, "you will be delighted to know, Meridies, that _five_ of miss Malcaster's closest friends all reported, at different times this day, the same event. It's six against two, if my numbers check out."

Numbers did check out. Number never lied. Numbers could be trusted. For the first time in her life, numbers had been use against her. Croix' shoulders slumped.

Could she… maybe if she… what…

"I suggest you not to utter another word, Meridies. What happened today shall not happen again. If it does, you know what's in store for you. Am I clear?"

Croix's eyes moved towards Chariot, who silently nodded, her gaze downcast, and then to Morgaine, whose clear eyes shone with the purest empathy. She looked so moved, so embarrassed. Like she was making them a favour.

"You are clear," Croix said.

"Very well. You will both go back to your room. And starting tomorrow, two hours of detention, the both of you. We'll see in ten days if that calmed down your spirits."

Croix only managed to nod.

As she and Chariot exited her office, she caught Morgaine's words to the Professor.

"You shouldn't be so hard on them, Professor. They just enrolled..."

"Ah, your heart is too soft, Morgaine. They have to learn."

"I suppose so… by the way, about your suggestion to apply for the Order of Hecates…"

Croix shut the door.

She was trembling.

This wasn't… this wasn't… it wasn't right! It wasn't the way things were supposed to be! She had to _save_ magic! It was her destiny, her task!

Someone touched her shoulder.

"Ah! Sorry," Chariot said, shying away. "I just wanted…"

"I'm leaving," Croix said.

This time, the red-haired girl didn't reach for her.

She only heard her timid _I'm sorry_ echo in the hallway, and then her footsteps, leaving in Croix's opposite direction.

Back to her room, Croix sat down to her desk, opened her book and nosedived into her studies.

There would be time for revenge.

But first, just as Morgaine Malcaster taught her, she'd better make sure she _could_.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

Well this was interesting! I received a lot of praise for the character of Morgaine Malcaster these days, people just love to hate her. I do wonder why…! She's a lot of fun to write: with characters like Croix, Finneran or even Chariot, who all have grey areas (and Croix is full of them) it's an interesting challenge to balance the good and bad, but with Morgaine I can just go all out. I have always found the bullies among the scariest villains in a school-based story. If a bully is smart enough, and is willing to withstand a little opposition, she can become a fearsome opponent, scarring people for life, even. And when you meet her years later, it always makes for an amazing chance to squeeze some more drama out of our characters, even more so if in the meantime the bully has grown to become a successful person… but no more spoilers on my future plans for _LWA_ fiction!

Given people have been asking me on her origins, I can tell you a few more things: Morgaine originally wasn't planned to even exist. Her place was supposed to be taken by Daryl Cavendish, Diana's aunt, both in _Lost Tales_ and in _The Polaris Tournament_ , a future story sets in the girl's second year. I wrote even a short piece about Croix getting vengeance upon her for bullying Chariot, but a couple days ago I sat on the bed and had one of those glimpses of insight: _wait Daryl can't be there she's like forty_.

Or more. If her daughters are older than Diana (and they have to be at least 19 if they are not in Luna Nova), then it's admissible Daryl is at last, what, 35? More likely 40 or slightly older, while Chariot and Croix are 26 at the time the story sets in!

This also posed the problem of how Daryl would interact with Croix and Chariot: she couldn't be _too_ mean. She can be ruthless and blinded by greed, but she's, well…

Morgaine, on the other hand… I can be free to work with Morgaine, and oh boy, is she going to play a _big_ role later on!

Also, on a further chapter you may find the original version of this tale, with Daryl in Morgaine's place.

Happy reading, and thank you for your support! As I like to connect with people, you're encouraged to leave a comment, as I'll reply for sure!

See you soon, and remember: a believing heart is your magic!


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